


Impossible often only means forbidden

by kanafinwhy



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (a little bit), (mostly), Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Older Brothers, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 17:57:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15935444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanafinwhy/pseuds/kanafinwhy
Summary: Maglor is a boy and no one knows it, not even him at first.(And Maedhros is the best brother one could have.)





	Impossible often only means forbidden

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in a very, very long time. Not the first thing I've written for this fandom, but the first I've completed and dared to post... It's quite personal, most is based on my own experiences but I think that just makes it more realistic (the rest is the trans gay/cis gay solidarity I wish to see). I hope it's any good, I worked on it for quite long instead of doing schoolwork. English is not my mother tongue pls be easy on me.
> 
> Some warnings: discussions of social and physical dysphoria, some instances of transphobia and misgendering (before Maglor is out), internalized transphobia and homophobia, gender roles, I do use his (imaginary) deadname.  
> Nothing graphic or really heavy, I tried to limit transphobia and misgendering as much as possible, but if mentions of all of that aren't your thing this might not be for you.

The day Fëanor and Nerdanel had their first child was the happiest day of their life thus far. Fëanor wept and laughed in joy for hours, hugging his exhausted and equally joyous wife and newborn son close until both fell asleep, and he then ran through the town, ecstatic, telling anyone and everyone he was the luckiest Elf with the most beautiful son.

"He has her hair," was the first thing he said to his father as soon as he found him, and Finwë immediately knew all went well, and he could not be prouder.

 

The day Fëanor and Nerdanel had their second child, five years later, was the first day in close to a year Fëanor smiled after hearing of the engagement oh Finwë and his soon-to-be stepmother. Bitterness and tension left his mind as he held the tiny being in his arms and remembered the joy and the pride he had felt when he first saw Nelyafinwë.

"She has your eyes," he said to his father that same afternoon, breaking months of silence between them, and Finwë instantly forgot all arguments to embrace his son.

 

"You have to be nice to your sister, Maitimo, she is very small and only just started to discover this world, everything is big and scary to her, so be sure to show her nothing but tenderness and comfort."

Nelyafinwë nodded solemnly and waited stiffly for his father to carefully lay his red-faced sibling in his arms and place his hands right as he explained how to properly hold the head.

Nelyafinwë only half listened, too intrigued by the tiny Elf to care. He smiled tentatively and was answered with a laugh and a bright smile.

Nelyafinwë decided then he was going to make sure that smile never faded.

* * *

 

Mákali Finwëwen was a happy child, very early he showed a lot of interest in music, and when he wasn't trailing after Nelyafinwë, he was studious and calm, a bit reserved even, but still full of life. His soft smile could warm any heart (and he only rarely used it to get favours) and all could already tell he would grow to be fair and proud like the rest of his family.  
His mother liked to dress him and purples and blues, "it brings out your eyes and your hair," she had explained when Mákali had once asked why he never got the same colours as Nelyafinwë, "but if you would prefer warmer colours I will ask the tailor." Mákali had weighed the options: looking more like Nelyo or being beautiful. He decided to be beautiful and only regretted it a little when later his father told him he was the most delicate flower in his gardens.

He liked being beautiful, that was not the problem, but sometimes he felt it kept him away from Nelyafinwë and his world. Nelyafinwë was also beautiful, all of their family was said to be, but he was allowed to be ugly sometimes, and Mákali longed for that. Nelyafinwë was allowed to be dirty and let his face twist under effort in the training ring, he was allowed to curse in the forge when he hurt himself, and he was allowed to be unkempt and tired and natural.

Mákali thought he would be happier if he had been born a boy, but then he remembered his girl friends who also had the same restrictions and he thought he would be happier if he was allowed to live freer. At least it wasn't his family forcing him, but more just him giving to the social pressure. _If I want to change I can_ , he thought, and he didn't think about why he wasn't changing.

Late at night, he thought of his mother who did not restrict herself like she was expected to, who was also dirty and messy often, though no less beautiful for it, and how he could be like her. The thought only made him uncomfortable and odd and so he didn't explore it more. _If I don't think about it, it can't hurt me._

 

He didn't succeed at not thinking about it, only at pretending he didn't.  
Oh it was not terrible, most days he could ignore it and even forget about it, but the best days were always the days he allowed himself small liberties to be like a boy comfortable, the days he went out in simple breeches and tunics, or tied his hair in a simple braid, barefaced or free of jewellery.

 _It's simpler, nothing more_ , he thought, _I don't like doing all that unnecessary stuff I'm just lazy._ And he ignored the thoughts about how he did like a lot of “all that unnecessary stuff" and it wasn't quite the problem.

Some days though, it was bad. Those days he didn't want to be seen, he just wanted to crawl under the covers and let the duvet swallow him. Like the caring big brother he had always been, Nelyafinwë would come to see him on those days he wouldn't come out, and it made him feel better and worse at the same time. Better, because no one could make him smile like he did, and unlike so many others, the way Nelyafinwë treated him did not make the bad feeling flare up; worse, because Mákali longed to be happy like he was.

"I think I wouldn't feel like that if I had been born a boy." He told him one bad day. Nelyafinwë was sitting at the edge of Mákali's bed and rubbing his back through the blanket he was hidden under.

"What do you mean?" He asked, and the lack of judgment in his voice made Mákali relax, he hadn’t even noticed he was nervous.

"I don't like… having to do so much… being a girl is just too hard I think.”

Nelyafinwë didn't answer or stopped rubbing his back and so he carried on.

"I like clothes, and jewels, and makeup, and I like doing my hair elegant and nice, and I like signing more than anything, but it's so much to do all the time...!" He thought for a moment, "well no, not signing, that I can do all the time, but the rest, making myself look like a girl, it takes too much time, and for what even…”

Nelyafinwë climbed on the bed and sat next to him leaning against the headboard.

"You don't have to do it you know... I imagine it can't always be fun, I mean, I don't like dressing up for official court stuff and I only have to do it a few times a year so I can't imagine having to do all that every day... but Mother puts about as much effort into her appearance as Tyelko does, and he's five, and Father always says she is the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on."

Mákali pulled the cover off his head and turned towards Nelyafinwë.

"It's different! It's not the same, I don't want to be like Mother, she's beautiful and amazing, but I don't want to be her or like her at all!"

He felt tears coming and he wasn't sure why. "I want to be like you..."

Nelyafinwë looked confused but not put out, another reassurance to a stress Mákali did not know he had "I don't understand," he said, “Mother is stronger and better at everything than I am, everything I train for she can do better… and while I certainly don't spend as much time getting ready as you do, well I still do spend a lot more than her," he twisted a piece of hair that had escaped his intricate red braids behind his ear, "if there is one woman who does not care about 'looking like a woman' or 'acting like one' it is certainly her."

"I know!" Mákali slid the cover back over his head to hide the imminent tears, "I know I know I know all of that!"

"But then why -"

"I don't know!"

He sobbed bitterly into the blanket, he always hated crying, especially when he did not know why he was and when it overtook him so suddenly. Right now it just made him feel weak and vulnerable.

Nelyafinwë placer a tentative hand on his shoulder, and when Mákali did not pull away, he lifted the blanket off him and pulled him into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I don't understand this, but I understand it's hurting you, and I don't want you to hurt."

"I don't understand either..."

"I know pitya*, it's okay, we can figure it out later... just cry now, let it out."

"Boys don't cry," whispered Mákali already feeling drained and tired.

"Oh, but we do, we _all_ do."

 

The day Mákali first bled was the worst of his life. He woke up in pain with a headache that would not go away and let him fall back asleep, and when he felt a wetness between his thighs he thought he had wet himself in his sleep. He immediately got up to try to hide it, embarrassment burning up, but when he looked down and saw his skin and the sheets were crimson, it's panic and nausea that took over.

He tried to hide it, he scrubbed everything under hot water until his skin was raw and almost as red as the linen he desperately tried to get the stains off, but blood had been soaking through for too long now and mere water could not remove it. He gave up when the pain in his lower stomach got too great and he had to just hold himself and try not to cry. He didn't know why he felt so bad, didn't know why he wanted to hide it and why it made him want to hide himself so much more, but he knew it was more than the pain, for he had hurt worse when he fell off his horse and broke his wrist two summers before, and he also knew he wanted it _gone_.

He did not manage to hide it, but he did manage to run away from a talk his mother wanted to have about it enough for her to give it up, and he managed to keep it under wraps. He was relieved like no other when it stopped.  
Every time it came back, it felt a little less distressing than the last time. But it never stopped feeling like those bad days he wanted to hide from everything, and it never stopped making him long he had been born a boy.

 _If it didn't hurt so much it would be fine_ , he thought, but he knew it wasn't the end of it, for his growing breasts did not hurt but made him feel the same _._

 

Mákali did not talk of his body with Nelyafinwë, it was too personal and too shameful, but he did talk to him about the feeling sometimes, when it was not so bad merely discussing it made it worse, but bad enough that he could not push it away. Nelyafinwë always noticed when he wasn't well, and for that he was forever grateful.

 

One summer, he met a boy who made his heart feel tight and his stomach do flips. First he was a friend, _just a friend_ , he insisted to Nelyafinwë who he knew had noticed his infatuation anyways, but then the boy started holding his hand sometimes, and brushing his hair behind his ear, and complimenting him more than anyone else, and suddenly Mákali wasn't so sure either of them thought of the other as a friend anymore.

The boy kissed him one night on the front step of his house after having walked him home like he had taken the habit of doing. "I like you a lot," he whispered, and it made Mákali feel light headed and giddy, and so he kissed him back tentatively.

"You're the prettiest girl I know," he said, before turning around and leaving for his own house. It broke the feeling a little bit. Mákali tried to ignore it to just think about how fast his heart was beating, and he almost succeeded.

 

"I can't want to be a boy," Mákali told Nelyafinwë one day they were lounging in his bed like they had taken the habit of doing on days either, though mostly Mákali, didn't feel good.

"Why the sudden change?" Asked Nelyafinwë, very surprised.

Mákali suddenly regretted talking but decided to carry on, talking to Nelyafinwë always made things better no matter the worries he had before sometimes.

"I like a boy," he timidly said, "like, _like_ like."

"Boys can like boys," replied Nelyafinwë, and it was certainly not the answer Mákali had been expecting.

He must have been staring because Nelyafinwë took a slightly offended look before looking around and leaning closer.

" _I_ like a boy.”

He said it low like a secret, and almost like a challenge too, Mákali realized, a bit hurt, he was expecting a rejection or disapproval of some sort.

He wasn't sure what to say, having been expecting perhaps congratulations for finally being a girl “right,” and certainly not a confession, so he said nothing for a long time, and so Nelyafinwë spoke again.

"Don't tell mother and father, or Tyelko, he can't keep a secret, or Moryo, he'll try to blackmail me into something that little demon..."

Mákali couldn't help but chuckle then, the bad mood was still there but for some reason he also felt strangely lighthearted.

"What's so funny?" Asked Nelyafinwë, hesitant.

"I don't know," Mákali truthfully answered, "but I'm happy."

Nelyafinwë looked confused again, and a bit guilty Mákali realized he was probably still waiting for his opinion on the matter, so he elaborated best as he could.

“I'm glad you told me, I'm glad you trust me, and you are right to do so I won't tell a soul!

And... and I'm also glad that instead of telling me it is good I don't want to be a boy anymore, you told me my reason to stop isn't a good one.”

"I'm glad I have you, you're the best brother."

Nelyafinwë smiled, bright and visibly relieved, Mákali felt his heart tighten a little at the thought that Nelyafinwë had to think maybe his best confident and own blood would reject him.

“No, _you_ are.”

And it was an ambiguous answer because surely Nelyafinwë meant he was the best _sister_ , or the best sibling at most, but the way he said it, he could hear Nelyafinwë calling him the best _brother_ , and it made him feel a rush of good that not doing his face could never compare to.

 

Mákali saw the boy most days that summer, _his boyfriend_ , he thought, and he liked that thought. They went out to places, gardens, the beach, ridding... often they went out in public, and sometimes they went to more private places, where they would kiss a lot, and sometimes a little more.

And Mákali liked it, liked _him_ , he was kind and funny and attractive, and he made him feel precious and all sorts of warm things, but sometimes there were things that bothered him that he could not explain, and even less explain to _him_.

He liked being his, but not being his girlfriend, he liked that he desired him, but not... not like that, whatever it meant. He didn't want him to hold his hips softly or to cup his breasts through his robes, but he did want him to touch him more, and he didn't want him to tell him how pretty and feminine he was, but he still wanted to hear his compliments.

 

One day, he saw Nelyafinwë and another man, _with_ another man. He turned around before they could notice his presence, embarrassed, for he was definitely not meant to see his brother kiss anyone so passionately, but also very curious, because what he had seen he found he envied.

He didn't understand why, after all, he too had a lover who kissed him like that, and he liked him very much, he did not envy his brother's lover at all, yet he could not help but feel like there was something different, like the answer to the something that felt bad sometimes when he was with his boyfriend had something to do with it.

 

"Who is the guy you like?" He asked one day he and Nelyafinwë were reading in the gardens a quiet afternoon.

"What makes you think I like any guy? You know, I can know who I'm attracted to without being attracted to any specific individual and -"

"I saw you kissing."

Nelyafinwë closed his mouth clearly caught by surprise.

"So, tell me about him?" Mákali asked, setting his book aside.

"I... he's a friend," Nelyafinwë looked nervous and a bit shifty but carried on, "We, uh, we're fencing partners, well we were, father is fighting with my — I mean his — I mean my ex-trainer and his current one, so I changed, but, well, we're still friends I guess."

Mákali didn't say anything but listened attentively, it was rare for Nelyafinwë to share such personal things, for as extroverted and confident as he was, he kept very close to himself all matters of the heart. _Probably because little other know he likes boys and he doesn't want them to ask too much_ , he thought, _just like I don't tell anyone else I want to be a boy._

"Well, a little more than friends I guess," Nelyafinwë muttered after a while, "I don't think I want to date him or anything, I do like him but not like that, I think..."

"Then why do you kiss him then?" Mákali asked. He could not imagine kissing someone he did not like. If there weren't feelings present to make him forget about the strange discomfort…

"I don't know? Well, no, I do know, I'm just not sure how to say it... you know I don’t, I don't really tell anyone I like, uh, guys, you know, and not many guys like guys in general either, well I think, I have no way to know actually, but point is it's the first time I've met a guy who was into me and who I was into, cause I am, just not ‘want to date’ kind of into, if that makes sense, and... I don't know. It seems like an opportunity too rare to miss." Nelyafinwë set his own book aside and ran his fingers through his hair, "besides I do like kissing him, you've never met him, well formally at least, but he is handsome and, hum, good... at things…” he trailed off, cheeks red under his freckles.

Mákali thought for a moment, "I guess it does make sense, in theory."

Neither said anything for a long while, and then Mákali whispered something he had not dared think before.

"I think I want a boy to like me as a boy."

Nelyafinwë looked at him curiously for a moment, and Mákali was scared for a moment he had finally said something that sweet and understanding Nelyafinwë could not understand, or worse, that he thought he was making light of his secret, but Nelyafinwë just pulled him close and tight, a comforting manner he tended to go to when he did not know what to say.

"It's not fair that you have to hide and you can't tell everyone you want to, and it's not fair everyone assumes you must like girls either, and it's not fair you have so little opportunities you feel like you have to be satisfied with something you don't really want but don't really not _not_ want either, cause who knows when and if an opportunity you do want will come." Mákali said, half to fill the silence, half because he felt had to make clear his comment did not come from a place of ignorant and inappropriate desire, "and I've never said sorry for it, but I am sorry I assumed it too.”

A small but warm smile stretched Nelyafinwë’s lips, he ruffled his hair, "it's okay, your punishment was to have to hear me ramble about a guy like an idiot."

"I'll listen to you ramble about guys like an idiot any day dear brother," he laughed.

"Only if you let me listen to your rambling about guys like an idiot, my dear," replied Nelyafinwë laughing too.

Mákali felt strangely glad he only called him his dear and not his dear sister. Not for the first time, he felt Nelyafinwë understood him better than he did himself,

 

At the end of summer, Mákali saw the boy for the last time. He was crying when he told him his family was moving away and he had to follow. Mákali cried a bit too, and kissed him though the tears very softly for a long time until he had to go. Mákali dried his tears as he walked home, only to cry again at night. No matter how the bad feeling had interfered in their relationship, he truly had loved him, and would miss him dearly.

He told Nelyafinwë the following morning and he patiently listened to him as he brushed his hair for hours. When a few weeks later Nelyafinwë's friend asked they stop seeing each other, Mákali was there for him.

 

Mákali decided he would not be in a relationship again until he knew what the bad feelings were. He also decided to stop pushing away the thoughts no matter how tempting and to listen to his instincts and his desires more closely.

Somehow, it was as hard to stop doing it as it had been to do.

He also tried allowing himself more “comfortable” days as he called them, and to slip more and more things that made him feel better in his usual days too. And it was strange and weird, and it made him feel self-conscious and sometimes even intensified the feeling of bad when he knew people were looking at him and thinking he wasn't being a girl right, but he persisted and adjusted himself. There were things he did not like giving up, and some days he did not want to be “comfortable” and would rather put on makeup and do his hair with a thousand jewels, but he forced himself still.

 _It'll feel better that way, I want to be a boy but I can't be, so if I act like a boy as much as I can it's going to be okay_. It wasn’t quite okay.

Binding his chest hurt, and was also not something he could quite get away with in public, but in the dead of the night sometimes he'd wrap fabric tight around his ribcage and let his breeches hang low on his hips to hide his curves, and the outline of the body he could see in the mirror felt both alien and good. If he saw someone with that exact body contour, he wouldn't think them a girl, and he liked that.

 

"I wish I were like the Ainur," Mákali told Nelyafinwë one day.

"Don't we all?" He replied.

"Probably," he smiled, "but what I envy them most is their ability to shapeshift."

"If you could, you'd change yourself a boy, wouldn't you," Nelyafinwë said.

It wasn't an accusation or a judgment, nor was it truly surprising to hear for the number of times Mákali had told himself he wanted to be a boy, but it still startled him to hear it.

"Yes," he could only answer.

"I don't know why it's something I want, you know, why that and not so many other things... being a girl is restrictive, yes, but so many restrictions I know I could free myself of with very little consequences, have already freed myself of actually. Mother and Father would not, do not, judge me for it, and I know I do not need to conform to expectations to be beautiful anyways."

"Yet it is something you greatly desire and have desired for a very long time," said Nelyafinwë, "sometimes things happen without logic, or at least without any logic we can see or can understand."

Mákali wasn't sure how to react to such validation so he did not say anything. He could never quite get used to the rejection he had grown to anticipate, for most aside his brother did already not approve of his manners even if only silently, and would never approve of his secret.

"Eru, Manwë... all the Valar and the Maiar work in mysterious ways we sometimes simply cannot understand and are not meant to." Nelyafinwë added.

"But what can I do if I cannot understand?" Whispered Mákali, “Would they truly curse one of their children to a life of discomfort and confusion?"

"Maybe... maybe it is not a curse? Maybe there is a way for you to be at peace with it without necessarily understanding it better. Maybe there in nothing to understand and only something to accept."

Mákali looked at him confused and discouraged, "I don’t think so, besides, you do not understand it either let alone experience it yourself, how could you know such a thing?" He felt himself getting heated, he did not want a fight with Nelyafinwë who was only trying to help and validate him, but he felt misplaced anger rise anyways.

"I do not know," murmured Nelyafinwë, speaking very softly and hesitantly, Mákali knew he knew he had pulled a string and while he did feel guilty at his near outburst, he was also glad Nelyafinwë threaded more carefully now, "it is true this is not something I can ever fully understand, for I do not live it, but what I am saying... is that maybe... maybe instead of going against it, or against anything you want really, you could... just go with it?"

"And how do I… how do I do that?"

"I — well, I don't know. I don't know all the details of what you live I am sure, and you are a far better judge of your own experiences than I am, but just... be the boy you want to be?"

"But I can't be a boy I'm a girl."

"And I can't like boys I'm a boy," said Nelyafinwë, "and yet I do, and I chose not to go against it despite the fact that everyone says I can't… It is not because everyone says you can’t that you actually can’t. I think some impossibilities are not really impossible even if presented as such, they’re more like social interdictions."

Mákali did not say anything for his throat felt too tight, and even if he could have spoken, he would not have known the words to convey all the contradiction emotions he felt, or how deeply glad he was to have Nelyafinwë as his brother and how much he loved him. He let actions speak and buried his head in Nelyafinwë’s shoulder as he embraced him very tight. Nelyafinwë gladly reciprocated and they stayed like this until Mákali felt he could speak again.

"Can I really be a boy?" He whispered, as much to himself as to his brother.

"I think you can," Nelyafinwë answered.

"Then… Then I think I might've been a boy for a long time already."

Nelyafinwë kissed the top of his head, "and I think I've known for a long time already, my dear little brother."

 

A year later, Makalaurë Kanafinwë told his parents they had seven sons.

(And there were tears, and there were many questions, and there was a lot of time needed to understand, but in the end, it was all okay.)

**Author's Note:**

> Funny how one of my pet peeves is trans character's who's real name is close to their birth one and I end up calling Makalaurë "Mákali"... I wanted the name to not stand out too much or be weird so I took the safest route.
> 
> Pitya: "little one" in Quenya  
> Finwëwen: it should mean "daughter of finwë", but it's probably wrong, I know close to nothing in Quenya.
> 
> I would be eternally grateful if yall could leave a comment,,


End file.
